Swim Coach

© 2008 by Heather Klassen

“Who’s that guy in the wheelchair?” Joel asked as we walked onto the pool deck.

I looked across the pool and saw a young dark-haired man sitting in a wheelchair next to Coach Sims.

“Coach said that the new assistant coach would be starting today,” I remembered. “Maybe that’s him.”

Joel grabbed my arm and pulled us both to a stop.

“No way,” he said. “That guy can’t even swim. No way he could coach a swim team.”

I shrugged. “Let’s get over there and find out what’s going on.”

As Joel and I joined our teammates, Coach Sims began his pre-practice talk.

“First up,” he said, “I want to introduce our new assistant coach, Andy Tanner. He’ll be at all of our practices and meets and will really help us out. I’ll let him tell you about his background.”

Coach Sims waved his clipboard toward the guy in the wheelchair.

“Hi guys,” Andy began. “I’m really excited to be starting this job and to be getting the chance to work with all of you. I’m sure you’re wondering about me and this wheelchair and what the deal is. I have cerebral palsy, and have had it my whole life. That means my arms and legs won’t do what I want them to do. So although I’ve spent plenty of time in the water, I’ve never been able to swim an actual stroke.”

“Told you,” Joel muttered.

“But,” Andy continued, “I grew up in a swimming family, so I’ve spent practically my whole life at the pool. And I’ve studied the sport extensively, so although I can’t swim, I can advise other people about swimming. So, like I said before, I’m really looking forward to working with this team.”

A few of the guys clapped, and the rest of us looked at each other, not knowing what to do.  “No way is that guy going to tell me how to swim,” Joel said quietly, so just I could hear him. Before I could think of what to say to him, Coach Sims got the practice going.

“Okay, guys, check the white boards for your workouts, and let’s get in the water. Now!”

Joel and I headed to our lane, checked the board, and jumped in to start warming up.

Later, as I touched the wall during one of my hundred-yard backstrokes, I saw Coach Sims hovering over me.

“David,” he said. “Climb out for a sec.”

“What’s up?” I asked as I clambered onto the pool deck.

“Andy’s noticed that problem with your backstroke arms and has an idea for you,” Coach told me. “Go over and talk to him about it.”

I headed over to the side of the pool to where Andy sat in his wheelchair.

“David, right?” he asked as I approached.

As I nodded, he continued, “I think you’d have a really strong backstroke if we could correct your tendency to cross over.” Then he launched into a long, detailed explanation of what I was doing wrong and how to fix it.

I found myself nodding all the way through his explanation. What he said made total sense.

“All right, I’ll try it,” I agreed when he finished.

Back in the pool, I did exactly what Andy had suggested. Right away my backstroke felt better—and faster.

In the locker room after practice, Joel snapped his towel at me.

“Are you really going to listen to that guy?” he asked.

“I think he knows what he’s talking about,” I replied.

“Well, I’m not going to listen to him,” Joel said. “He can’t even swim, so he can’t tell me how to swim.”

I took my time in the locker room, because I’m always the last to be picked up. But when I stepped outside, I found Andy sitting there.

“Waiting for your ride?” he asked me.

“My dads both work kind of late,” I explained.

“My brother does too,” Andy replied. “He’s my ride, at least till I can save up enough for a car with hand controls.”

After a couple minutes of silently staring straight ahead, I spoke up.

“Thanks for the backstroke advice,” I said. “It really worked. I was surprised” I stopped myself before finishing that sentence.

“That I know what I’m talking about?” Andy finished for me.

I nodded, embarrassed.

“You don’t have to be able to do something in order to understand how to do it,” Andy told me.

“Yeah, I get that now,” I said. Then, as we waited together, Andy and I started to talk. And not just about swimming. Even though he was a lot older than me, it turned out we liked plenty of the same things, like the same music and movies and computer games. We talked until Dad pulled up.

“See you tomorrow,” Andy said as I climbed into the car. I waved, realizing that I actually looked forward to that.

Every day at practice Andy gave advice on swimming technique to me and to my teammates—everybody except Joel. Joel just walked away when Andy tried to help him out—or pretended to listen without really paying attention. My times kept getting better. Our team kept getting better too, winning meets that surprised us.

And every day after practice, Andy and I waited for our rides together, talking and laughing. He had a great sense of humor and a lot of cool stuff to share, stories from his life, stuff he had learned. I felt like I could ask and tell him anything.

Joel kept harassing me about Andy before practice, during practice, after practice in the locker room. Finally, I got sick of it.

“Look, Joel,” I said, as we were peeling out of our wet swimsuits. “I’m tired of you putting Andy down. He’s a great coach.”

“You’re lame, David,” Joel replied. “Just like your great coach Andy. He’s handicapped. Can’t you see that?”

I stared at Joel. “What I see, ” I said, “is that you’re the one with the problem. Your times aren’t getting better. Your stroke isn’t improving. Because you won’t learn from someone who could help you. And that’s a problem that affects the whole team. Andy’s our coach. If you don’t want to be coached, maybe you should think again about swimming on the team.” I couldn’t believe I’d said it—but I didn’t feel sorry. It was all true.

Then I banged my locker shut and headed outside to wait for Papa.

Talking to Andy, I tried to ignore Joel as he stomped past us. I even tried to ignore the glare he gave me before crossing the parking lot.

“I’m sorry you and Joel are having problems,” Andy said. “I know you used to be good friends. It’s frustrating that he won’t accept me as a coach. I’ve tried, but I just can’t get through to him.”

I shrugged. Then I blurted out what I’d been thinking for a while. “You know Andy, you’re an awesome swim coach,” I said. “But what I’ve learned by getting to know you outside of practice is that you’re just a really cool guy. Even if you knew nothing about swimming, you’d be a really cool guy anyway. So Joel’s not just missing out on a great coach, but on a good friend, too.” I shrugged again, feeling kind of embarrassed.

“I think you’re a really cool guy too, David,” Andy told me. “Besides being an awesome swimmer. So I’m glad we have the chance to hang out sometimes.”

With that out of the way, Andy and I started talking about other stuff. Like every other day after practice, Andy and I hung out and talked, just two really cool guys waiting for their rides together.

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